Otaku Translation: Literary Genius: This Kid Was Born Smart C113

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Everyone from

Details: A short story collection by , soaring through thousands of years of human history on the wings of grand and imaginative storytelling.

Finally, it appeared!

As Gu Lu had predicted, it was a collection of Liu Cixin’s science fiction shorts. But what about this ? Which story did it come from?

, , With Her Eyes, , , , , …

Jackpot! Absolute jackpot! When it came to Chinese science fiction shorts, Gu Lu only read and Liu Cixin.

Inside, Gu Lu was ecstatic, but his expression remained perfectly composed.

“Please thank your mom for me,” Gu Lu said as he accepted the flower. Meanwhile, his mind began churning over how to approach teaching writing.

In his past life, he’d devoured countless books on the craft: , , Save the Cat!—you name it.

Even if you’ve never tasted roast suckling pig, you’ve at least seen pork, right? Gu Lu already had a rough outline of his teaching plan.

“This osmanthus is one of my mom’s favorites. She’s been growing it since September and even named it ‘,’” Lü Ping explained. “Try to take good care of it, and feel free to ask me if you have any questions.”

Isn’t “Xi Xiang” just another name for osmanthus? Gu Lu had his doubts but kept them to himself.

As the two spoke, another voice interrupted—

“Gu Lu, my mom invited you over for dinner this Saturday if you’re free.”

It was Li Guyuan, who originally planned to say this privately after class. But seeing Lü Ping present the flower made him uneasy.

Without a doubt, as one of Class 10’s twin stars, Li Guyuan considered himself Gu Lu’s best friend.

It must be said, high schoolers still carried a childlike streak, fretting over whether their friendships were the closest. As adults, they’d realize having friends at all was a stroke of luck.

“Won’t this trouble your mom?” Gu Lu’s expression shifted slightly as his thoughts drifted to the potential trigger of Stories of Remarkable People.

Don’t blame Gu Lu for wanting more—why not stockpile a few extra masterpieces while he could?

“No trouble at all. Besides, this week is perfect for reviewing history, politics, and geography. Bring your history textbook,” Li Guyuan suggested.

Unintentionally, he revealed two things: first, that Gu Lu and he were already helping each other improve; second, that Gu Lu was close enough to his mom that receiving a flower wasn’t unusual.

“Tang Yuan, how’s your plan coming along?” Lü Ping, completely oblivious, turned to chat with Li Guyuan instead.

Seeing there was no more drama to watch, the surrounding classmates lost interest and returned to gossiping about their own or others’ post-parent-teacher-meeting experiences.

Li Guyuan looked confused. “What plan?”

“Senior year has ended; freshman year begins anew. The year is , and all under heaven shall prosper!” Lü Ping declared with unwavering certainty.

Good grief, what were these two up to? Gu Lu thought back—2012 really was the Year of the Dragon (Renchen).

“I’m aiming to become a starting player this semester and get elected as vice-captain of the basketball club next semester,” Lü Ping explained. “And didn’t you say, Tang Yuan, that we’re going to overthrow the literary club?”

So they really were plotting rebellion?! Gu Lu marveled at his classmates’ boundless energy. By contrast, his own goal of simply growing taller seemed rather lackluster.

“Ahem, ahem,” Li Guyuan cleared his throat, glancing briefly at Gu Lu before launching into his grandiose plans.

“We once published in the literary club, though sadly, it only lasted three issues due to funding issues. I’m planning to hold a school-wide essay contest and revive Shuren Monthly!”

The idea sounded noble, but Gu Lu saw right through its impracticality. The reason Shuren Monthly had failed wasn’t just a lack of funds—it relied entirely on school subsidies, lacking any self-sustaining mechanism. With so many clubs at No. 8 High School, monthly funding handouts were unrealistic.

Still, Li Guyuan was clearly riding high on enthusiasm, too caught up in painting a picture of the future with Lü Ping to consider practicalities.

Gu Lu tuned out the chatter and returned to his seat, diving into the newly synthesized short story collection, With Her Eyes.

---

Before, Ms. Gao’s book recommendations during the opening ceremony had overlapped significantly with The Village Teacher.

As for the “osmanthus flower”… Gu Lu mused, it likely stemmed from With Her Eyes. The triggered item wasn’t specifically tied to osmanthus flowers but rather to flowers that had been given names.

“For now, I’ll hold onto these sci-fi shorts—they’re my trump cards,” Gu Lu mentally calculated.

Currently, Mr. Holmes was serialized in Chronicles of Mystery. There were still two or three stories left to publish in Story Digest, and two more in Fear Guest (New Edition). Add to that the two stories currently under review by Youth Digest, and his output efficiency was remarkable.

“Once these short stories are published, and Fear Guest releases my short story anthology, I’ll decide whether to dive into sci-fi…”

“After all, nearly all twenty stories in With Her Eyes can be adapted. Works by Chinese authors resonate better with domestic readers.”

There was no need to rush further—he was already pushing human limits as it was. Gu Lu reminded himself.

Fridays always felt agonizingly slow, yet even the slowest hours eventually passed.

The weekend arrived.

Saturday brought a basketball match between No. 8 High School and Third High School. Initially, Gu Lu couldn’t care less—not even NBA games interested him, let alone a student competition.

The Third High School court was sparsely populated, mostly with players’ friends. Overall, the atmosphere was lackluster.

But then—

“Is the captain okay?” Lü Ping asked anxiously. “Can he keep playing?”

Crucial moments in the game!

Lu Shangtong, a burly senior and captain of the basketball team, sat clutching his ankle. He’d twisted it earlier but stubbornly played through the pain—until now, when the agony became unbearable.

“Substitute him. Playing injured will only worsen the injury,” Coach Zhu advised.

Coach Zhu, a retired center from , was more than qualified to train a high school squad.

“We can’t lose to Third High School!” Lu Shangtong gritted his teeth. “I can still play.”

“Don’t risk your health,” Coach Zhu warned.

“Coach, our captain is fine!”

“Yeah, Brother Lu’s in great shape!”

“Our team needs Brother Lu—if he doesn’t play, we won’t win!”

The players were fired up, both starters and substitutes eager for victory.

“Give me one more chance, Coach. I can do it,” Lu Shangtong insisted.

Was winning this single match really worth it? No prize money, no trophy—health should come first. Gu Lu’s thoughts clashed sharply with those of his peers.

“Go, go!” “Brother Lu, you’re a real man—your arms could carry horses!” “Crush Third High School!” “The east wind blows, drums beat—who rules this world?!”

The cheers of No. 8 High School’s dozen spectators ignited a spark. Initially apathetic, Third High School’s audience suddenly roared to life.

“No. 8 High School’s basketball team is trash—they always lose!” “A ten-point lead isn’t enough; crush them by twenty!” “No. 8 High School’s failures!”

“Gu Lu, shout louder! Don’t let them out-cheer us!” a fellow club member urged.

And so, Gu Lu joined in the yelling.

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